Nidhon's Freedom?
by Nidhon Gratael
Summary: Nidhon has broken away from his past, he thinks he is free, but is he actually free of what binds him to another? His collar, is that strap of leather, enough to destroy everything he tried so hard to get rid of and shove into the past?


The night was a hot, dark and stuffy one. The trees almost sweat themselves; a fire was in place in the center of the shoddy put together camp. The only thing in the camp was a bedroll and a belt that was hung over a tree branch. The belt was black leather, polished and well kept. The owner must have valued it and taken good care of it. In the belt were two just as well kept daggers. They were silver in color; the steel was shiny, even in the midnight darkness. The moon was nonexistent as the night was darker than was ever seen. As if a blanket had fallen upon the earth itself. The night was pierced by a bright blue light. The flame was blue in color as it shot through the night air. Thick and dark, yet the fire's light lit the wood around the camp. A tree erupted into flame as the figure came into its light. A skeleton was that figure. Maybe an undead necromancer, though it was not yet known. The undead figure's from was covered in a dark set of robes, the hood covered the eyes and most of the rotten mouth. As the figure stepped further into the camp another figure entered the picture. A small, rather thin form hovered behind the skeleton. The skeleton was aware of this movement and turned around, just to meet two plunging daggers into its eye sockets. In the time that the skeleton had lit up the camp, its owner had slipped away with his weapons to see what was invading his privacy. He was annoyed and was not fond of undead at all. As the skeleton fell, the figure pulled the daggers free, sheathed them and turned its head towards the sky. The morning sun was coming up, as it did the warmth and brightness of the sun came through the trees. The figure covered its face with a hand to not be blinded. The yellow warmth of the sun fell onto dark features. A rather thin face, pointed black ears, silver hair tied back into a ponytail, and bright blue eyes. The man, as it was seen from the front was shirtless. Only in black leather pants, with brightly polished swashbucklers on his feet. The belt hung loosely on his hips, upon further looking; the torso was black as the night had been, though covered in scars. Most of which were most likely from battle and other hardships. The man crouched, looking at the skeleton now that it was brighter. He could see the robes more clearly. He swore loudly. It was a necromancer, an undead one. It must have been raised by another magick user to do his or her bidding. It unsettled him; he had been in the forest for only a few nights and was already being attacked. He hated the idea, but it was true. He was now rethinking his last job, stealing from the mage. Yet, he needed the coin and also needed to get away from those damned woods as well. He shuffled his feet slightly, his boots squeaking as the rubbed against each other. He sighed and rolled his shoulders. He would have to leave, he knew he would need to start soon or he'd be dead by next morning. He rose and turned around, gathering his blanket, as it was the only thing he had carried on his back. As he turned a rather feminine back was shown, also scarred and a long line of once torn flesh ran down his right shoulder blade. He sighed again; tightening his belt to make sure his daggers would be secure. He grinned wickedly as he would finally be able to sell his spoils. He started a brisk pace of a walk and made his towards the next town. He would go due east; he knew that the town was not merely a town, more like a city. It had a steward, merchants, guards, well-armed guards at that.

It would be only hours before he came open the city. The thickly made stone walls towered over him by several feet. He was short, so it seemed even bigger. He chuckled at that, he knew he was short, yet he did not care. He nodded to the guard and shrugged; the guard opened the gate and gave him a dirty look. A drow was not a happy sight to many people. Most drow murdered, raped and killed many in the area. He was just here to sell things, maybe get more work and be on his way. He started to walk further into the city, he stone buildings made him feel like an ant, the masonry was well put together and would probably withstand a few catapult attacks, only a few. He chuckled at the thought, his amusement shown on his face as more people gave him dirty look. He did not let it damper his mood though, he made his way towards the merchants square. He had business to attend to and he would get it done. The wooden carts were littered around rather carelessly. It would be a nightmare trying to find a merchant to buy his spoils. He sighed and started making his way towards a few merchants. Weapons, armor, gifts, flowers and other pointless trinket was all he found. What was with these humans and needless things? He would probably never know really. He finally stopped at a cart that was displaying jewelry, it was what he needed. A grin spread over his face and he approached the man, a rather fat man. Rotund, as if he were a spoiled nobleman. He chuckled lightly and smiled. He spoke in deep and pleasant monotone.

"Hello there, sire. I would like to sell you some very rare items and trinkets."

The drow bowed elegantly and smiled still at the unsettled man. The man tried to smile back but retorted gruffly.

"Why should I deal with you, dark skin?"

The drow gawked, he faked a painful expression.

"I only wish to trade, dear man. Nothing risky or dangerous about it."

The man nodded and shrugged.

"Then let me see what you have for me, drow."

The drow nodded back and reached into his pouch on his belt. He produced a silver necklace with an emerald in it and a ring. The ring was gold, just a simple gold band. Both were of magickal properties. The drow spoke again as the man inspected each piece.

"These are rare items; I wish to fetch a few gold for these, not silver."

He spoke bluntly and shrugged, shuffling his feet as was a usual mannerism of his. The merchant nodded and slid five gold pieces towards the drow and waved him away rudely. The drow did not care; he got his money, which was what he wanted. He nodded and bowed once more, he smiled. Where would he go now? He needed sleep, maybe the tavern would do. Yes, a tavern would be nice. He had been deprived of sleep because of his midnight visitor; it irked him still and made him very angry. He went out of the merchant's square and headed for a tavern, he did not look at the name, as it did not matter to him .He just needed a warm bed and some warm food. The drow pushed the door open and smiled; the tavern was dimly lit with oil lamps and candles. The drow quite at home, he smiled and nodded to the bartender. He stepped over and smiled still.

"Sire, do you have an extra room per chance? Nothing fancy, just a plain room?"

The bartender nodded.

"Aye, we do, though it'll be three silver."

The drow nodded and slipped the silver to the bartender, taking the key that was given to him. He then left the bar and headed over to the fireplace. The fire was warm and inviting to him. He had never known anything so nice and heartwarming. He pulled up a chair and leaned back, propping it on two legs, pressing the back of it against the wall. He brought his booted feet up and crossed them on the table. He crossed his arms and watched the other patrons. He smirked, what a rather strange lot they were. As if they had no care in the world, they just went about their daily lives with no worries. It was amusing to him, only slightly but still enough to make him chuckle. The sound of his laughter must have caught the attention of someone as he heard a chair turn in his direction. His palms hovered over the pummels of his daggers; he was ready for a fight. He did not want one, but he would fight if he had to. A rather sculpted man adorned in rather common silk, it was a common sight. As the drow looked again, it was not a common sight. The silk was almost different, as if it were from the eastern part of the land. He had never been but he heard the silk was just as strong as chainmail. It had shocked him as he looked; almost jealous as he wished he had something like it. The only thing he had for protection was his speed, as armor would slow him down. Speed was a required thing in his trade. He was a thief by trade; he got money from taking from others and using it for his benefit. He did not deny what he did, but he preferred the term 'opportunist' though most did not see it that way. The man kept watching him, it was making him unsettled. He enjoyed it, or did he? Or was he just being shy? The drow chuckled at his own embarrassment. That caused the man to eyes him even closer. As those rich green eyes bored into the drow, he felt his stomach knot. Almost in a good way. He did not what to think of it at the time, he was so confused. No human had looked at him the way this human was. He smiled at the man and then looked towards the fire, another fire burning to the tips of his ears. Was he blushing? Him blush? No, he couldn't be, it was ridiculous. His midnight skinned burned, he shut his blue eyes. He opened them only a few seconds later and the man was at his table, straddling a chair backwards and resting his chin on his hands as he eyed him still. What was this man issue?! The drow wanted to smack him, and hard. Yet, he held back, there was something else in the man's gorgeous green eyes. Wait, gorgeous? Did he really just think that? Oh dear, he felt a fire in his ears again. At this feeling, the man must have seen it as a grin spread over his face. The drow would admit, the man was handsome, rather striking honestly. The drow shifted in his seat slightly, feeling rather uncomfortable. The man spoke first, in a rather choppy accent and a deep, but still high pitched voice. The sound made the drow's skin crawl; it was a nice sound, one that could get used to hearing. All the time, if he had it his way.

"Drow, I seen you come in this way, May I ask why and your name? "

Good looking and respectful? Damn, this was something. Yet, he knew not what. The drow responded rather quickly.

"Ah, just selling some spoils from my travels, making me some money is all. Nothing major."

The man smiled, it was a nice smile, warm and inviting. The drow shrugged.

"Why you ask human?"

The man responded again, still sweetly as before.

"Thought you could use a drink, a friend, and some company. You seemed lonely."

The drow shook his head and wave a hand.

"No need, I would like some company though."

He smiled at the human and chuckled lightly.

"My name is Nidhon, yours?"

He bowed his head respectfully. Then the man spoke again.

"My name is David, not fancy but it is my name."

The drow raised a hand, chuckling lightly.

"A man with your looks does not need anything fancy and outstanding."

The man grinned and laughed, the sound was pleasant, the sound of the man's laughter made the drow's stomach lurch. It was awkward for Nidhon; he had never experienced anything like it before. He rose to his feet, smiling to David.

"Alas, my friend. I must retire to my bed; it's been a long day for me. I am tired and must rest."

The man chuckled now, rising as well, smiling widely.

"May I join you, Nidhon?"

Nidhon blushed badly; the man was so forward and charming. He was shocked, yet he was aroused by it. He could sense that the man wanted more than friendship, but he was so tired. He just shrugged and started to walk up the stairs towards his room, his black leather boots thudding on the steps as he went. He reached his door, inserted the key and turned it. A click sounded as it was unlocked and he sung it open. He stepped into the very wooden room, a large bed with a fire, a wash table and a mirror. He was unaware of the man hovering behind him. He breathed softly as he stepped further into the room. He heard the door click shut, a pair of strong sculpted arms wrap around his torso. He blushed, his midnight skin crawled, and his blue eyes shut slowly as he submitted to the man's desires. He felt strong hands trail down his front and unclasp his belt.

The morning came in a haze of dizziness. He went to roll over but was stopped by warmth, smooth and chiseled warmth. He raised a dark hand and brushed over the figure's shoulder. Then, he remembered. It all came back to him, the night before, selling his spoils that he had taken from someone. His blue eyes stayed open as he watched the man's back rise slightly and then fall as he breathed. It was a nice sight; his back was smooth, yet scarred. Nidhon rose to his feet as he rolled over the bed, making sure not to disturb his guest. He looked down and saw his full body; he was dark as night and naked. He blushed badly, what had he gotten himself into. He shook his head as he pulled on his black silk pants, then his boots and retied his pony-tail. He shut and then opened his blue eyes; it had been a long few days. First, he escaped the home of his contract, with stolen items. Then, he killed a raised necromancer. Then, he fenced his items; lastly he ended up in bed with a total stranger. He grabbed his belt from the floor, seeing that his daggers were still in their sheathes, he smiled. His daggers always cheered him up. They were fine craftsmanship. If they were cutting through a creature, a person or just glowing in the firelight, he cared not. They were beautiful. He tied off his belt and reached for the door knob, as he turned it he looked back on the man still sleeping. He thought he saw those lovely green eyes pop open, yet he might have imagined it. He was swaying a little, he was feeling sick. He ached all over, not sure why. He did not remember why, he did not really want to. He opened the door and swept out and into the hall, softly clicking it shut behind him. He sighed once he was in the hallway, his ears burned with a red fire as his emotions tumbled all around him. He was not sure what he would do, where he would go and how he would deal with his new feelings. It was going to be an adventure he would most certainly not enjoy. He turned and started a slow decent down the stairs and into the bar. The wood of the stairs, creaked a little under his weight, even though he was very light. His mind was racing. He wanted to go back upstairs; he felt something he had never felt before. He wanted to get out of the town and just run. He wanted to get away, he wanted to leave. Half of him wanted to go back and the other wanted him to stay and wait. Him, being the knucklehead he was, he stayed. He swayed over to a small table in a far corner, away from the fire and in a dark corner. He sat in a chair, making sure there was a second for the man. He would wait, no matter how much it hurt him. A few minutes passed by as he just sat and waited, the tavern started to fill up as more and more people came down from upstairs and flooded in from the streets. It was soon buzzing with clanking of drinks, laughter, swearing, boasting and breathing. It was a beast that was created in only a few minutes. As the hour crept by he heard a thudding on the stairs, he did not raise his head, only lean back in his chair, prop it on two legs, swing his legs onto the table and prop the back of the chair against the adjacent wall. His blue eyes snuck upwards and glimpsed the bottom of the stairwell by the corner of the bar. The familiar form, sculpted and masculine, rippling with muscle and scars, yet smooth to the touch, all come off that last step. The man had groomed, trimmed his hair and shaved off his thick stubble. He was handsome looking, now that he cleaned up, he looked rather like a noble. Nidhon snuck out a smile from his lips, quickly making it vanish as the man approached him. His blue eyes slipped from up to the top of the table. He rose and then dropped his shoulders in a shrug as the man sat across from him. The man shifted in his seat and sighed.

"Hey…I'm sorry about last ni-"

"No, it's fine. It's just as much my fault as it is yours. Don't worry about it. I came down here to wait; I'll be leaving again soon."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Ah, Dave. It's called opportunity. I have more work coming in day by day; I must fill my contracts and get my coin."

The man shrugged and cocked his head a little.

"Nidhon, what do you do for work?"

"I usually do 'recovery' or you called just call it thievery. I also am a sellsword. Always looking for work or even better, a business partner, even a companion on my travels. It does get quite lonely."

The man nodded and clapped his hands together. "Alright, where we going?"

The drow sighed and shrugged.

"Okay."

He leaned in close to the man and kept his voice low, as a tight whisper.

"To Neverwinter, my friend, stealing a few items from the Lord's cabinet, his magicians and his captains. A long journey and job to say it plainly."

The man groaned and then let out a soft sigh.

"So, when you starting out?"

The drow chuckled at the human.

"You must understand, you could die, could get pushed into somewhere where you might never find your way out. Possibly buried alive, beaten to death, burned to ash. Anything."

He chuckled.

"Anything can happen in the job of thievery, my friend."

The man nodded and raised his hand, a rough and heavy hand. He extended it to offer a formal human agreement. The drow took it and shook. He was not human but he knew enough of their culture, meant that he should take it and shake. The man nodded at the darker skinned male and they both stood up. After a few minutes of the other man eating and having a drink before the road, they headed off. They had no horses, no magickal teleportation and no other means of getting to their destination other than walking. It would be a long journey and it would be hard. They both left the small town, through the small stone archway and off onto the dirt path that lead to one of the main roads.

Nidhon slipped a hand over the pummel of his knives, not sure how long his journey would take. He looked around, his blue eyes scanning the trees on the road that was south-east of Nesme. He was on his way to Neverwinter. He had a job to do and he would see it done. He would make sure that the man would not come back. The man on his right side had completely ruined him. Both emotionally and physically. The day had waned out and into darkness once more. As the trees slowly crept by, they looked for a place to set up camp. They went off of the path and into the trees. Nidhon`s mind went right back to a couple nights before. The night was the same black ink of darkness. The drow blended in perfectly. It was as if a shade was walking by the man, mimicking each and every move he made. Dave broke the silence first.

"Hey, drow?"

"Yes, Dave?"

"Is this a good spot to set up a fire?"

Nidhon nodded, it was a good spot. He smirked and looked around; it was close to the same spot he camped at only a couple of nights earlier. Only that they were miles away, all the forests looked the same, all the rocks and rivers looked the same too. It could make someone go mad, and it did. There were many tales of men going into the woods and walking, just walking and not seeing any change. It made them mad and eventually they killed themselves. The clearing was a good one, several feet all around, perfect to set up a fire and then possibly get a kill and cook it for their dinner. Dave dropped his bedroll onto the soil and started to gather some stones. Nidhon then dropped his bedroll as well, the drow started to fish through his pockets. He was looking for his flint and steel. He nodded towards the human male.

"Dave, gather some sticks and kindle, I need to find my flint and steel. The drow finally found his flint and steel. Only moments later were there stone and wood set-up. It was ready. He knelt down and struck the two together, the sparks lit and soon the fire was going strongly. The orange glow of the fire lit and warmed the ground around them and the two themselves. The dark-elf looked over at the human male. His green eyes glowed in the fire's light. It was making the drow swoon, almost quite literally. He could remember all the times he submitted to his mistress, all the orders he took. He ran a hand around the back of his neck, remembering the weight and warmth he felt from his thick black leather collar he wore. It was long gone now, as his mistress had died many years ago. That was how he had earned his freedom; it was how he came to the surface and how he decided to get a better life. He was thankful for the new life he had, but his heart-strings still pulled towards being a slave. It gave him warmth he could not explain. It was something different; being a slave was enjoyable to him. It made him feel wanted; it made him feel loved in a sort of way. He could not really explain it too well. He knew that it had gotten him into a bit of trouble in the past and even when he came to the surface world.

Dave looked at Nidhon, unsure why the dark-elf was rubbing the back of his neck. Was he still uncomfortable about what had happened, or was he thinking of something else that had happened to him in the past? Dave shrugged and thought of that latter. The drow did possible out-age him by many many years. He would settle with the latter, it was the best choice as he thought thinking on it too much might just make him ask questions, maybe the wrong ones. Nidhon stopped rubbing his neck; he leaned backwards and laid down. He shut his eyes as his back laid onto his cloth bedroll. As he shut his eyes, he remembered it, each night and each day he had to remember. Remember where he came from and why he was here now. A slight rubbing sound was heard in the silent night. The drow toes had curled inside of his highly polished boots, the leather was always kept so well and nice looking. Dave turned his head towards the sound, his palm grazing over the pummel of his sword. Nidhon had forgotten where he was, he could remember the soft touches of his mistress, he could remember the blood he had shed and the sweat he had made trying to get on her good side and earn her respect. He curled his toes tightly, remembering those whips on his back.


End file.
